Well Begun
by Meteoricshipyards
Summary: A collection of scenes, plot bunnies, muse abandoned stories, and random thoughts that I decided I wanted to share.
1. Harry and the King

**"Well begun is half done"** - Mary Poppins (from the movie)

I seem to be able to generate ideas and scenes that have no further story to them. Or sometimes my muse just abandons the story.

I've decided to post some of them here. After all, other writers I like have their "plot bunny hutches", or "Odd Ideas" files. Some of these I really, really want to continue.

Like this one.

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**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the legends of England.

**Britain's Darkest Hour**

Harry Potter was lost.

Of course there were different degrees and meanings of lost, and several applied.

He was lost in that he didn't know where to go from here. Voldemort had succeeded in overcoming the Ministry. The Order was all but wiped out. He had barely escaped with his life after the last "Pimpernel" mission. But the exile community near Reins, France had just been destroyed, so a lot of those rescued had been killed anyway.

He was lost in that he didn't feel he had the strength to go on. Most of his friends and classmates were dead. Dumbledore was probably mad, going on about the power of love and pieces of souls. Hermione had researched the whole horcrux thing, and while it was similar to the soul jars of the ancient Egyptians (which led to walking corpses somewhat different than Infiri), she could find no reference, even in the books where Dumbledore said it was, about ripping or dividing a soul. Whatever Voldemort had done to return to a body, it didn't involve the non-existent horcruxes.

But England was overrun. Giants destroyed with impunity. The power grid was down, and the army was ineffective - every time they seemed to get organized, their leaders would get Imperiused, and they would turn on each other. Dementors spread the "Sleeping plague" and none of the muggle scientists could stop it. This led to a blockade around England; fears of a man-made or natural disease with no cure, no known cause, and no hope had frightened the rest of the world.

Harry was also lost in that he didn't know where he was. Not specifically. He was in a part of the Paimpont forest where there were no paths or roads that he could see. He knew Reins was somewhere within a few miles; in that respect he wasn't very lost. He had come here to think, leaving the site of death behind. But he had come to no conclusions; no insight came to him.

He climbed a hill to see if he could get his bearings. The hillside was mostly devoid of trees, so once he was at the top he had a clear view of the tree tops of the forest. "Clear" also seemed to be a relative term. A mist seemed to be rising as the sun was setting. The sunlight was warm on his face, but he shivered looking at the mist for some reason. The trees lost their definition as leaves and branches and took on a vague green shape stretching to the west, disappearing into the setting sun.

The trees began swaying. No, not really. They were undulating, rising and falling, like waves. That was what they looked like, exactly like waves! The blur of the green amidst the mist was moving as if it were ocean waves, rolling in towards him. He even smelled the salt in the air.

NO! Impossible! Coming from the setting sun was a dark shape, that Harry would have sworn was a boat. But it couldn't be. He was in a forest, no matter how much it looked like the ocean.

But yes, it was indeed a ship. Harry didn't know enough about watercraft to know what kind, but he was sure it wasn't modern. There was no sail and no oars. As it came closer, there was no sound except the splash of water as the prow cut through it. It floated up to the hill, sitting on the green mist/water/treetops, and turned, allowing Harry to look over the gunwale of the fifteen foot craft. Inside was a wooden platform or bed.

Or a bier, as there was a body lying on it.

He was dressed in decorated leather that Harry could see was both functional and impressive looking. His head rested on a shield with a white dragon emblem. On his head was circlet of gold, and beside him was a metal helmet. His hands were entwined, upon his chest but were empty. For some reason that seemed wrong, to Harry. He looked like he should have been clasping a sword, for some reason. There was an empty scabbard attached to his belt, and again, Harry felt that was wrong.

Harry gasped as the man opened his eyes. He took a breath, which told Harry that he hadn't been breathing before. He looked around, and stared at Harry for a moment.

"A bit of help here," he groaned.

Harry splashed through the water, and climbed over the side of the ship. He helped the man sit up; he was large, heavy, and felt very strong.

"Have you something to drink?" he croaked out. "They said I have been mostly dead for quite a while."

Harry handed him a plastic water bottle. The man tried to pull the top off. Harry stopped him, and unscrewed the lid. The man finished half of it.

"Ahhh! Very clean water. Very strange water-skin, though."

"It's a plastic bottle," Harry answered, used to explaining the modern world to wizards.

"I see there is much I should learn, and probably not that much time in which to learn it. Tell me, young sir, as this is Britain's darkest hour, how fares our country? What news can you give me of our homeland?"

Harry helped the knight (he couldn't help thinking of him in that way) off the ship. It sailed away, but faded from view long before it should have. The water/forest effect, however, remained.

"An evil wizard has taken over the country. The rest of the world believes that the country is affected by a new, deadly disease and have blockaded the island, allowing no one in or out. The disease is really a horrible death caused by dark creatures under the wizard's control."

"And you? You have the same air about you as Merlin, yet you have not his stature. Are you a wizard, too?"

"Yes, sir."

He turned away from Harry, but kept talking. "You oppose this dark wizard?"

"I do. He killed my parents and many of my friends, as well as many innocent people. I've been opposing him, but it's not enough."

The knight nodded. "As I will soon be returning to Britain to fight this rogue, will you join me?"

"No offense, sir, but he is a powerful wizard. What can you do against him?"

He frowned, but Harry didn't think he was upset by the question. The knight muttered, "Where is she? We do not have all day! Darkest hour and all that. . . ."

"To answer your question," he said louder, "one thing I can do is surprise them. If they are anything like the sorcerers of my day, they like to use the death curse?"

"Yes."

"Well, I happen to be immune!" he said with a chuckle. "You can not kill someone twice."

"You're dead?"

He turned towards Harry as he spoke, "Yes, well, I'm sure I'm alive now, through no fault of my own, I may add. Ah, here it is!" He turned away at some movement in the water.

An arm, clad in white, rose from the water holding a sword. The hand didn't really throw the sword, it just released it. The blade reflected the sun as it spun through the air towards the knight who caught it by its hilt. Harry couldn't help but think that the man seemed complete now that he had his sword in hand. He swung the large metal object around like it was weightless, then put it in its scabbard. Harry looked back at the "water" but found it was gone.

"So, master magician, by what name are you known?"

"Harry Potter, sir."

"Harry Potter, would you consent to become my advisor and court magician?"

"I would like to sir, but my job is to fight Voldemort."

"He is the dark wizard that holds my island in thrall?"

"Er, yes sir."

He broke into a large, friendly smile. "Then there is no problem, as that is my first job, too! Come! Let us go to town and get sustenance, and then we shall journey to Britain and begin the battle." He somehow hooked his shield to his back, and his helmet to his belt, and strode down the hill.

"Excuse me, sir, but what is your name?"

"What? I apologize, Master Harry! It was extremely rude of me, as well as being very big-headed to expect you to recognize me! I am Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Camalondunum, and High King of all Britain!"

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**Author Note:** I like this scene a lot. The problem is I don't have a _story_ to go with this scene. I have no idea how sword wielding Arthur will bring victory.


	2. Muppets' Harry Potter

**Disclaimer and note: **This is another beginning that I really want to turn into a full blown story. Posting it seems to have gotten some of the creative juices flowing. And, as you should know by now, I don't own anything Harry Potter-ish nor any of the Muppets, which are owned by the Henson company.

**Muppet's Harry Potter**

Harry knew he was in trouble. And the worst thing about it was that he had no one to blame but himself. Well, that wasn't true; he could blame his _friends_ who hadn't given him any information. He could blame his so-called family who had been obnoxious to him so far this summer. So sorry that watching someone you know and like (could he consider Cedric a friend?) killed right in front of him and watching a madman who has now tried to kill you four times get resurrected might cause nightmares. A little comfort might go a long way to alleviating the guilt and nightmares; then he wouldn't wake the whole household up with his screaming.

But honestly, he had to blame himself. He just had to get out of that hell hole, and so he did. He took the Knight Bus to Leaky Cauldron, went to Gringotts, got some Muggle money, got out of the Wizarding district as quick as possible, took a train to a nearby town (Iver Heath), bought some new clothes that fit, and decided to buy himself a good meal for a change. And then he'd consider going back home, but not necessarily. The discussion with the goblins had made him aware that he could stay at a hotel for the whole summer and not put too big a dent in his account. Hell, he could spend the whole summer in a hotel on the Riviera and not make a significant dent in his bank balance.

It was while looking for a restaurant that the Death Eaters found him. He started running. Years of dodging Dudley's gang came in handy. What he didn't have was the knowledge of the area -- where the shortcuts were, what hedges he could slip under, which fences were easy to climb (a skill Dudley had never mastered). He ran around a corner -- he had to, the road had reached a T, with a large brick wall right in front of him. The sign on the wall said "Pinewood Shepperton Studios." He kept running, but kept looking. Nothing! No other streets for too long. Then he saw his escape! He ran across the street, looked at the bags of his new clothes, tossed them over the wall, and started climbing the tree. Someone hadn't trimmed the lowest branches close enough to tree -- the remains of them stuck out enough to be footholds. Up and over the wall, and he was safe, he hoped.

He collected his bags, and made his way towards the back of a strange shaped building. It looked huge. This end was flat, but the long side flowed into the roof, which curved over the whole thing. The sign over the door said "Studio 4." Harry still felt too exposed so he made his way to the door. It was unlocked. He slipped inside.

It appeared to be some sort of warehouse. There were scores of tripods; racks of spot lights. A huge set of shelves that reached to the ceiling, a good twenty meters above filled with chairs, tables, dressers, refrigerators, stoves, and even kitchen sinks and commodes. Harry wondered if this was a warehouse for storing disassembled houses. Moving farther into the building he knew he had to revise his thinking. He came to an area filled with fake palm trees, tropical plants, piles of plastic skulls, and half grass huts. Looking in one through the missing part, Harry saw it was just a fake, designed to look good from one angle. He also found a large stone idol. Touching the ancient looking object, he discovered it was Styrofoam -- shaped and painted to look like an old stone statue. He finally came to a door leading further into the building. Opening it revealed blue. From the floor to the ceiling was a bright blue cloth, stretching most of the way to the far walls. He walked along it, wondering what it was for, listening to voices from the other side.

"Are the horses ready this time? The barrels back far enough?"

"Brian, I still think the carriage should knock the barrel of gunpowder over and blow up the town."

"And I still say no. Quiet on the set! Action!"

As Harry looked around the end of the blue cloth he was surprised to see a village. Numerous buildings were arranged around a crowded cobblestone road that went past a dock. Next to the dock was the upper part of a sailing ship. The part that would have been in the water was either under the floor or didn't exist. There were more people on the deck -- and a large blue eagle? There was a boy and a sailor next to the large bird. The townsfolk were dressed in clothes similar to what he had seen in Diagon Alley -- from the Victorian age. Yet right in front of him were a dozen people dressed in modern Muggle clothes. There were lights hanging from the ceiling illuminating the street and ship. There were men with huge cameras on wheeled platforms. One was looking at the strange group on the ship, another looking down the street -- beyond the buildings was more of the bright blue cloth. A third was near the base of the ship, in what would have been water, looking at the dock. The floor where the water should have been was also bright blue. A carriage drawn by live horses came racing down the road and stopped at the dock. He realized someone on deck was talking.

". . . .Lollygaggers will suffer his wrath!"

"Wrath? I-Is this captain bad-tempered?"

"Is he bad-tempered? The man is a raging volcano. . ." Wait a minute! Was that the eagle who said that? ". . .tormented by inner demons the likes of which mere mortals cannot fathom." Yes, it was the eagle!

"He's got demons? Cool!" said a voice from no one Harry could see from his vantage point. Meanwhile, a footman had opened up the carriage and everything became very quiet as the captain in question prepared to make his entrance. Harry saw a camera move closer to the carriage; a boom with a microphone lowered towards the vehicle. A foot appeared, followed by the rest of the impeccably dressed captain.

"Heigh-ho, everyone." It was a frog.

SNAP

"And cut!" someone from the Muggle group in front of Harry yelled. "That's a wrap, people. You know the drill. Stay in contact in case we have to re-shoot any more scenes. Gonzo, light that cannon and I stick you in the sensory deprivation tank!" Harry looked at the ship and saw a strange, blue creature quickly jump back from the cannon. "Wrap party is Saturday at 4 at the Boar and Hound. Tim? According to my notes we have all your songs. Kevin, you have your schedule at the recording studio?"

"You mean Jimmy-Jim-Jimmy-Jim-Jim-Jim-Jim!" the blue creature, Gonzo, yelled.

The boy on the deck answered, "Yes, Mr. Henson. Tomorrow at 8."

"Good. Otherwise, it's been fun! See you at the premiere if not before." The movie set had been quiet while Mr. Henson had been talking. Suddenly it was flurry of activity.

"Nobody leaves until you turn in your costumes."

"Watch the wires!"

"Pack the village up. Who has the blue prints for the first James Bond set?"

Many more modern dressed people appeared and began taking the town apart. It was funny, the buildings further down the road were smaller -- the windows, doors, details were just two thirds the size of the closer ones. The large blue cloths started descending from the ceiling. The group of Muggles, including the man who seemed to be in charge were walking towards the far end; it sounded like there were two dozen conversations going on in that group of about a dozen people.

Another group of "people?" were congregating near the bottom of the gangplank to the half ship. A long with the eagle, frog and strange blue creature (that looked sort of like a turkey, but not much), there was a bear, a rat, the man and boy from the ship, and a pig with blond, curley hair. The frog was speaking.

"It's been a great honor working with you, Mr. Curry!" he said, shaking hands with the pirate.

"It's been a blast, Kermit. And you'll see me Saturday. And you," he said, to the boy, "you are going places in this business!" The two humans started walking off.

At that point the organized chaos gave way to real chaos as part of the wall was blown in with what Harry recognized as a blasting curse. A dozen robed and masked people came in through the whole in the wall.

One of them cast a Sonorus charm on his throat, and said, "Turn over Potter and we'll leave most of you alive."

The man in charge, Henson, yelled, "Security." That's when things really started getting weird.

Security was like nothing Harry had ever seen. There were three of them, between seven and nine feet tall, but at least four feet wide. They were all furry, and one wore trousers. Two of them were blue, the other was a more tawny color, and had a club. One of the blue ones had a mouth big enough to put a grown man into, while the other two could have at least fit a man's head in their mouths. They were charging from three directions at the Death Eaters. Their appearance seemed to shock the wizards, because they didn't try anything for a moment. Suddenly one of them was hit by something.

"They're throwing fish!" he yelled holding up a halibut.

Harry raced around the ship, but there was no escape back there -- the blue cloth had covered a blank wall. A rope ladder fell from the ship, and a young, fuzzy looking "person" with glasses said, "Climb aboard, you can hide on the ship."

Harry climbed up the ladder. There were a lot more people on the ship than he had first thought.

"I'm Scooter, by the way. Go through that hatch and you should be safe."

Harry ran down the steps into the "ship." The interior was no more real than the grass hut he had seen before. He did pass a goat holding a skeleton, saying, "They killed Dead Tom."

He didn't see who answered, "Yes, but Dead Tom was already dead."

Once out of sight, he looked up the steps and saw a strange little man with a wicker basket pulling fish out of it and throwing them. "How do you like my boomerang fish?" he yelled. The man ducked as a blue beam of some sort of spell passed over him. While he was down, several fish landed around him. He picked one up and threw it again.

Harry saw a porthole facing the main part of the sound stage. Looking through it, he watched the three monsters chasing some of the Death Eaters. The blond pig did some sort of martial arts kick, and with a "AYE YA!" sent one of the Death Eaters flying. He saw the frog leap in front of a Death Eater and use a sword to disarm the black robed villain.

Some Death Eaters tried to organize themselves. Unfortunately, the fake building they were standing in front of blew up. The young wizard heard the frog yell, "Good job, Crazy Harry!"

A small rabbit went running towards a Death Eater wielding a cricket bat. The Death Eater, who appeared to be looking around -- Harry guessed he was the object of the wizards' search -- flicked his wand haphazardly and a crate slid between himself and rabbit. The rabbit ran right into it knocking himself flat on his back. Harry winced.

"Poor Bean Bunny," said a voice next to him. Harry turned and saw a bear in a bowler hat.

"Uh, hi," said the bear.

"Hi," Harry answered.

"Please don't tell Kermit I'm hiding. I'm a comedian, not an action hero."

"I won't tell. I'm here with you, you know."

"Right. I'm Fozzy Bear."

"I'm Harry Potter."

"You're the one they're after."

"That's right."

"AYE YA!" Harry and the bear looked out their respective portholes in time to see another Death Eater flying through the air. Tracing his trajectory back to it's origin revealed the blond pig.

"She's got quite a kick," Harry commented.

"And a mean right hook," Fozzy replied.

"AAAAAAGGGGGG!" Harry followed the sound of terrified yelling. It appeared to be coming from something falling from the high ceiling. A sandbag dropped right on a Death Eater, taking him out of the fight. A rat staggered away from the body.

"Next time wait until I'm off it before untying it!" the rat yelled.

Harry heard a reply from the deck above. It was the voice he recognized as the blue creature named Gonzo, "Sorry, Rizzo."

Harry then heard, "Accio frog!"

Suddenly all activity stopped. Harry saw one Death Eater holding the little green figure with a wand pointed at his head.

"One move and the frog gets it!" came a voice Harry recognized -- Bellatrix Lestrange. "Potter! Come out or I start racking up the bodies. Drop that fish, little man!"

"Kermit!" the bear gave a strangled gasp. Harry knew he had to do something, but what?

"I know you're here, widdle Potter! If I don't see you by the time I count 3, your friends start to die! One...."

Harry ran up the steps. "Here I am, Lestrange," he yelled from the deck of the ship, wand in hand.

"Lower your wand, Potter," she replied, "and come down here."

Harry started walking towards the gangplank when he heard a whispered voice say, "Light the cannon." The strange thing about it was that the voice came from the cannon.

As he walked next to it, he flicked his wand sideways and murmured, "_Incendio_."

The cannon went "boom!" and Harry had a glimpse of something blue flying out of business end. What turned out to be Gonzo slammed into Bellatrix, knocking her out. Harry raced down the gangplank to the frog/Death Eater/whatever pile up. He helped the unhurt Kermit up. Then he gave Gonzo a hand. The little blue creature shook his head and looked at Kermit.

"I told you I didn't need a helmet."

"And I told you that the safety inspectors would have closed us down if you did your cannon act without one." The frog turned to Harry and held out his hand, "I'm Kermit the Frog, by the way."

"I'm Harry Potter."

"The Harry Potter?"

"You've heard of me?" he asked, rather confused.

"Heard of you! Of course I've heard of you. These nuts who just missed ruining the last scene of the movie were yelling your name."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that."

"Is there a particular reason they wanted you?"

"Yes. They're minions of a madman who wants me dead."

"I had one of those after me a few years ago. Wanted me to be his spokes-frog. When I turned him down he wanted to cook me."

"Mine just wants me dead. Then he's going to take over the world."

Bellatrix started to move, but was stopped when the pig gave her a hard kick.

"Oh, Kermie? Who's your new friend?"

"Harry Potter, this is Miss Piggy. Piggy, this is Harry Potter, target of a madman."

"Well, then we better get going, don't you think, Kermie?"

"Going?"

"If we want to save Mr. Potter from his madman before the wrap party on Saturday, we have to get going."

"We're going to what?" the frog asked, incredulously.

"Don't let him fool you," she stage whispered to Harry. "He was going to help you anyway.

"Well, lets go 'do lunch,' and figure out how we're going to defeat this madman of yours. Come along, Kermit."

The pig grabbed Harry's arm in one hand, and Kermit's in the other, and started leading them to the exit.

An old woman appeared at the door and said, "Stop right there! No one leaves. . . ." Harry wondered what this new difficulty was.

". . . Until you turn in your costumes."

"Yes, Hilda," Kermit and a number of other actors of various species answered.


	3. Harry Potter and the Doctor

**Harry and the Doctor**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, or the Doctor. In fact, if I ever claim to own the Doctor again, he's promised to make sure my parents never meet (which inadvertently leads to the Great Depression of 1965, and the end of the world in a nuclear apocalypse in 1971, thus causing my favorite TV shows to never be produced....)

It was a dingy street in London. There was a store with a poorly dressed manikin in the window and a door that looked like it hadn't been opened in a long time. The street was empty of people and even the curbs were curiously empty of cars. Old newspapers moved in the slight breeze. The place seemed abandoned.

The old, blue police box gave the gray street a little color. The fact that it hadn't been there a minute ago went unnoticed by the non-existent pedestrians and car traffic.

The door to the police box opened, and a young man and woman came out.

"This is dump," the woman said. "Why exactly are we here?"

"Because the trichrometic bedsister assembly broke."

"Yes, but why_here_? I thought we were going to be closer to my mum's place."

"That wouldn't be a good idea. At the moment, you're just eleven, and aren't in that apartment."

"Oh. I suppose we should stay away, then. Can you get parts for a psychotic resister here?"

"In truth? No. . . ."

"What!"

"However," he said, quickly, "I can get something to jury-rig it up. Then we'll be able to get to Altair and get a good replacement."

"Fine, whatever."

"Did you see that?" the man asked. He was in a suit, but inexplicably wearing trainers.

"What?" The young woman was in jeans and a t-shirt with a Union Jack design on it.

"That old man, walked right through the window."

"That's impossible. The window would have broken. Or he would have. Have you ever seen a beard that long?"

"Yes. The Eldest on . . . . Never mind, he's walking away. I think I'd like to talk to him. Be right back." The young man walked quickly towards the old one who was walking slowly towards the street, lost in thought.

Albus Dumbledore trudged away from the entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies deep in thought. Things had spiraled out of control last year, and he had to take some of the blame. In the end, he was reacting; dancing to other's tunes. No more.

His interview of Umbridge had not gone well, but he did get a little information out of her. He'd have to use some of his diminishing political capital to protect Harry and the others from her accusations. Dratted woman! He'd also have to quickly get a defense teacher so as to make sure Fudge didn't foist another on him.

"Look out!" a voice yelled, and a hand grabbed his arm, jerking him back from the road. Suddenly, he was against the building, and a large, purple, three decker bus went speeding past, missing him by inches.

Again, with hardly any actual movement, he was at the curb again. He looked and saw what happened.

The stranger had grabbed him by the arm to pull him from the on coming Knight Bus. To get better leverage, he had grabbed the nearby lamp post. That had probably saved both their lives, as the lamp post had been magically moved out of the way of the bus, as all things should be. Dumbledore had no doubt that the bus' magic had been changed to not do the same to living things. He had just been the victim of an assassination attempt.

The bus, halfway down the street, disappeared with a bang.

"Thank you, young man. I believe I owe you a life debt."

"What?" The man seemed shook up. He looked at the building where the lamp post had put him, and down the road. "What?" he asked again. Dumbledore had the impression that he was speaking rhetorically.

"It seems I may have annoyed the wrong people. It's so nice to know that you're making enough of a change in the world to have your enemies try to kill you."

"Does that sort of thing happen often?"

"No. Most don't have the courage to try to attack me, as they didn't this time. I bet whoever set this up was in Ravenclaw."

"Sorry, don't know it."

"You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you? I'd remember you if you did, I'm sure."

"No, never went to Hogwarts."

"Were you a Baubaxtons student?"

"No, I didn't go to school in England."

"Ah, the New World! Salem? Great Lakes? Not IOU?"

"I taught at Illuminati University several times."

"Ah! Which school?"

"C.T.H.U.L.H.U. College of Temporal Happenstance, Ultimate Lies and Historical Undertakings. I've taught off and on a number of times in the past and future."

"Oh, one of their Technomanacy disciplines. I may be old fashioned, but give me simple magic any day."

"Who's your friend?" the young woman walked up to them and asked.

"I'm not sure, although I do think introductions all around would be useful. Hello, I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose."

"And I'm Albus Dumbledore, I'm sure you've heard of me."

"No."

"No."

"Headmaster of Hogwarts? Chief Mugwump of the International? Head Warlock of the Wizengamot?"

"No, sorry."

"No, sorry."

"You're not a witch, are you? You're not a wizard?"

Rose answered first, "No. Just a normal human, which the Doctor has shown me is a pretty good thing to be."

"No, not a wizard."

"Then how did you see the Knight Bus?"

"It was right in front of us. You didn't see it."

"I allowed myself to be distracted ."

"What bus? Wait a minute, I vaguely remember something about a bus. It should have hit you!"

"She's obviously a Muggle. But what are you? A squib?"

"I already told you, I'm the Doctor."

"And you taught at IOU?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore was never sure why he trusted this man who he just met. There was something about him, something almost _magical?_ that led him to the path he took with his next question. "Are you any good at Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Magical defense? Sorry. Do know some Venusian Judo, but that's hardly the same thing."

"But you live and work in the Muggle world? Would you be available to perhaps teach our Muggle studies class?"

"I'm not sure I'll be in the area long enough. . . ."

"But you see, with Voldemort back, it's absolutely essential that we get a good defense instructor. If you teach the Muggle studies, I can move Professor Carter to Defense. And if I don't, the Ministry will saddle me with another stooge whose job it is to monitor the students and not actually teach. We have to get the students trained, it may be the only thing that saves them."

"Which Ministry?"

"The Ministry of Magic. Where are you from?"

"Galifrey, actually, but Voldemort? I think I encountered him before."

"Despite what the ministry has said, he really is back and he'll take over the world if we cannot stop him."

"Isn't that being a bit dramatic?"

"I wish I were. You might not be old enough to remember. . . "

"I'm a bit older than I look," the Doctor muttered.

". . . but we were losing the last war against him. There is a very slim chance of success this time, which is more than we had the first time. But with the Ministry interference, we'll lose for sure. Please say you'll help us."

The Doctor turned to Rose, and asked, "Ever want to be a teacher? Mold young minds? Inspire the next generation? Get apples on the desk and tacks on the seat?"

"I didn't think we were going to be here that long?"

"Nonsense! There's always time to lend a helping hand."

Dumbledore suddenly looked embarrassed. "There is one question. . . ."

"Yes?"

"Illuminati University. What does the "O" in IOU stand for?"

"I'm sorry, you're not cleared to know that."

"Drat. That's what the Arch-Dean told me, too."

"If it's any consolation, I wasn't told, either."

Rose and the Doctor were sitting in the Tardis' lounge. The Doctor was reading over the text books for the classes he was going to take. Rose was looking over volumes on the Wizarding World that they had bought at Flourish and Botts.

She closed a book and exclaimed, "I don't believe this! I mean, magic! But not only that, a whole hidden world."

"Yes, the Clarkes are rather good at that."

"Clarkes?"

"Refers back to something known as Clarke's Law. It says, 'Any sufficently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.' The Clarkes are a subspecies of human who have the ability to modify the universe at the quantum level with a special organ in their head. As it is so intimately tied to their thinking, it has some interesting side effects. For example, if they believe they cannot do something, then they cannot.

"It also screws with their critical thinking capability. They are, as a group, some of the most illogical of your whole illogical race. They are always on the brink of extinction due to their own foolishness. It seems as if their extra ability is actually a deterrent to survival."

Don't know what to do with this. I originally wrote this as a Pretender/HP cross over (replace Rose and the Doctor with Jarod. Also Jarod never taught at IOU, but he did study at Miskatonic :-) Jarod's unique ability gives him the ability to see the magical world, a trait most Muggles don't. I was going to do the Pretender story Harry's 5th year, with Jarod doing the appropriate punishment to Umbridge at the end. But I couldn't think of a plot to fill in the rest.

With the Doctor? I'd just ignore HBP and continue from the end of OotP. But not soon (or ever).

Tom A.


	4. Harry Potter and the Slayers

Harry Potter and the Slayers

**Author Note**: I've wanted to do a Harry Potter/Buffy crossover for a while. I have several first chapters, but no real story to follow up. This is the best one.

I'm playing a little with the dates, mostly of Buffy. I once figured it out that Harry is about a year older than Buffy. In this story, Buffy's a few years older than Harry. Just to re-iterate: It's intentional. Also, it is expected that you know the Harry Potter universe, as I won't be explaining it in this story.

Chapter 1 The Spell

_Into every generation a Slayer is born. One girl, she alone will have the strength and skill to battle the vampires, demons, and evil of the night._

June 24, 1994. 12:15 WDT, (21:15 GMT)  
Sunnyvale, California.

"Potentials to the basement. Follow Faith and Spike!" Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer, ordered the girls who had the mystical potential to succeed her upon her death, as there was only one Chosen One. Since long before recorded history, one Slayer would die and another girl would be called up. That's how it was, and that's how it always had been.

Until Buffy had the temerity to be revived from the dead with mouth to mouth resuscitation, and allowed a second Chosen One to be called. At the moment the second Chosen One was leading the potential Vampire Slayers to face an army of vampires.

"Willow, my office is straight through there," Robin Wood told the red-haired Wiccan. They were in his former school, where he had been principal trying to oversee the teaching of a building full of teenagers as well as keep tabs on the evil that seeped from the basement.

The breaking of the rule of only one Slayer had led to a situation where the First Evil, an incorporeal being that should have been nothing more than a small voice tempting humans (and other things) to evil actions, had accidentally received power at that moment. Over the six years since then, it had hoarded that power, testing it, increasing it, developing it, until now it was going to unleash a vampire army upon the world. Neither the Slayer, her friends, nor even the First Evil, knew that the rules defining the Slayer's powers had been weakened even longer ago than that. Fourteen years ago, in fact, in 1981.

"It's right over the seal," Buffy added.

The seal over the Hellmouth, a gateway to another dimension that would be the conduit for the demon army of the First. The Slayers were leading about thirty teenage girls into a hell in order to save the world from the total annihilation of all life.

"I'll go set up," Willow Rosenberg answered. She was the key to the operation. She would be casting a spell beyond anything that she had ever cast; using more power than what had overwhelmed her the previous year, causing her to almost destroy the earth in her despair. She had given up all magic for a while, and had used it sparingly since then. If her friends hadn't talked her into this . . . . But they had.

"Civilians, if the vampires get upstairs, they have three areas where they can get to another building. . . ."

Rupert Giles, last member of the Watchers, the organization that trained and controlled the Slayers, and Buffy's mentor, and Robin went to one of the attack points. Andrew, a nerd who dabbled in demonology, Dungeons and Dragons, and comic books, and Anya, a former demon, went to another crucial location. Xander Harris, construction worker, and friend of Buffy's since she moved to Sunnyvale, and Dawn Summers, Buffy's pseudo-sister readied themselves in the final battleground.

- - -

October 31, 1981. 12:00 AM, (00:00 GMT)  
Godric's Hollow, Wales

The fire crackled in the nursery, burning the notebook filled with arithmagical equations and runic breakdowns.

"Shhhh!" the red headed woman whispered to the toddler. "We don't want to wake daddy up, do we." She put him on the changing table and spread out the blanket she had worked on for the last month in his crib. Arcane symbols were embroidered on it, but the intricate glyphs were nothing compared to the spells woven into the cloth. She placed the sleeping child on the blanket and began chanting and waving her wand in an intricate pattern. Over an hour later she took her wand and lightly touched her sons' forehead with it. He wiggled a little in his sleep, causing the eldritch pattern left behind on his skin to look like a lightning bolt. The shape wasn't important, just the magic. She then traced a line down her own forehead. There was a glow of magic between the two.

"My son, should the worst come to pass, I'll receive your death, and you'll receive my power. I know it's a poor trade for you, but at least you will live on. And I gave you a bit of a surprise for your attacker.

"Know that whatever happens, I will always love you."

She glanced at the fire. The notebook was completely consumed. No one would ever find out what she did; no one would ever be able to work around the enchantments she had put in place to protect her child.

- - -

Bargains, packs, exchanges, balances. All crucial to the safe use of magic. Lily Potter had set up an exchange with her child. His death for her power. It would have been a worthless exchange - a death is usually much more costly than that. That's why it wasn't used all over the place.

Two things made it work in this case, which were detailed in the now destroyed notebook. The first was the mother-child bond. It was a bond that was well used to being part of a sacrifice on the part of the mother, so certain, let's call it magical resistance, wouldn't occur.

The second thing that made it work was a strange power that Lily could detect and measure, but not quantify. She knew she had something, it's just that she had been totally unable to determine what that something was.

- - -

October 31, 1981. 9:42 PM, (17:42 GMT)  
Godric's Hollow, Wales

"Move aside, foolish woman!"

"Not Harry! Please don't kill Harry!"

"Avada Kedavra!" The spell flashed past the mother who was foolishly trying to bargain with him! Lord Voldemort had no mercy!

The spell impacted the child and a retaliatory spell flashed back at him from the child. He might have been able to block it, had he not been distracted by the flash of magic from the woman. She was covered in a killing-curse green glow. Further examination of the event was interrupted by his body being destroyed the killing-curse triggered spell from the toddler.

The jagged cut on Harry's forehead where his mother had touched it with her wand would become famous. No one would even notice the straight cut on the forehead of his mother.

- - -

June 24, 1994. 8:30 PM, (11:30 WDT)  
Hogwarts, Scotland

"Harry Potter! Go!"

Harry Potter, abused orphan, wizard, unexpected fourth champion in the three participant Triwizard Tournament, ran into the maze made up of eight meter tall hedges, monsters, and magical traps.

- - -

June 24, 1994. 8:50 PM, (11:50 WDT)  
Hogwarts, Scotland

"Both of us," Harry said to fellow Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory in the middle of the maze.

"What?"

"We'll take the cup at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

They reached out and grabbed it and were pulled away.

- - -

June 24, 1994. 9:20 PM, (12:20 WDT)  
Little Hangleton, England

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

Five minutes later, Harry lay panting on the ground, Voldemort having just released him from the pain curse, Cruciatus. Harry knew the killing curse was about to come. He opened his eyes, and felt something strange. It wasn't anything from outside, but from the inside.

- - -

June 24, 1994. 12:25 WDT, (21:25 GMT)  
Sunnyvale, California.

In Robin's former office, Willow held the Blade of the Slayer, a magic battle-ax, and invoked her magic.

Kennedy, her girlfriend, looked at the now white haired witch floating in a glow of eldritch power.

"You're a goddess!" she whispered.

"And you're a Slayer," Willow replied.

- - -

June 24, 1994. 3:25 EDT, (21:25 GMT)  
Rochester, New York

Kelly Winter, 9, stepped up to the plate in a softball field in the southeast part of town. She had been a fair player, so far. You didn't expect much from any of the nine and ten year olds who made up the team. No one was expecting her to hit it out of the park. Even she was surprised when she did.

June 24, 1994. 2:25 CDT, (21:25 GMT)  
Dallas, Texas

Barbara Gosayne looked up from the bed where her so-called husband had just knocked her back. He had caused bleeding once and she had called the cops but he knew better than to leave evidence these days. He would rough her up for a while and then take his relief. As he came over towards her, she kicked out, breaking his leg. As he lay on the floor in pain, she smiled at him.

June 24, 1994. 3:25 EDT, (21:25 GMT)  
Baltimore, Maryland

Jayne Cooper turned away from her father, who was spewing invectives at her. She walked to her room, and packed her stuff. She ignored the man's yelling and insults. She felt strong enough to live on her own, no matter what the old man said. She didn't need to put up with him anymore. She pushed his wheelchair out of the way when he physically tried to block her, and left the house.

- - -

October 31, 1981. 9:42 AM, (17:42 GMT)  
Godric's Hollow, Wales

Harry Potter exchanged the magic in the killing curse with his mother's power. If he decided to learn runic magic or arithmancy he would excel at it, as he would in charms and potions (if given a chance). What his mother didn't know would go to him, as she didn't know it was part of her, was her potential to become the Slayer.

- - -

June 24, 1994, 21:25 GMT (12:25 WDT)  
Little Hangleton, England

Harry Potter put his hands flat on the ground next to his head. Neither his leg - injured in the maze - nor his arm - cut in Voldemort's resurrection ceremony - hurt any more. He brought his legs up and kicked them out while pushing with his arms and ended up standing, empty handed, against Voldemort. He didn't mind the loss of his wand; despite all the spells that he learned this year in preparation for the Tournament, he knew none of them would be useful against Voldemort. He started moving towards his enemy.

The nose-less Dark Lord aimed his wand at the insolent brat and cast the death curse, "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry dodged the the spell, took a quick step forward, and kicked out with all his strength, shattering Voldemort's kneecap. As Voldemort went down with a girlish scream, Harry hit him with his fist under Voldemort's chin. His head snapped back with a sickening crack, and the scream turned into a gurgle. The Dark Lord fell in a heap, his head at an unnatural angle.

Pettigrew yelled as his new silver hand turned into silver liquid and dribbled to the ground mixed with blood, which was once again flowing out of the stump of his arm.

"Get him!" yelled one of the death eaters. Harry thought it sounded like Macnair. Several wands came up, pointing at Harry.

- - -

June 24, 1994. 12:35 WDT, (21:35 GMT)  
Sunnyvale, California.

"Something's happening!" Spike yelled as the amulet in his hand started glowing.

"Time to go!" Buffy yelled to Faith, as she used the Slayer's Ax to decapitate another head from another vampire. She moved back towards the stairs where the new Slayers were moving past the glowing Spike and escaping. They had wrecked havoc on the vampire army with their small numbers. But there were too many vampires. The Slayers had lost about half their number.

Buffy said her goodbye to Spike, her enemy who became her friend and lover. She raced out of the school leaping collapsing buildings as Sunnyvale fell into the metaphysical hole that was suddenly a real hole beneath the town, as the magic in Spikes amulet destroyed both the vampire army and the Hellmouth.

- - -

June 24, 1994, 21:35 GMT (12:35 WDT)  
Little Hangleton, England

Harry dodged another spell as he closed in on a Death Eater. He wasn't sure where this strength came from nor the martial arts moves he was executing - but where ever it was from, he was grateful. He was about to stab the Death Eater in front of him with a wand when he felt a strange warning, and jumped out of the way. The Death Eater went down, victim of a killing curse cast by one of his compatriots. Harry plucked the now dead Death Eater's wand from his hand and threw it at the frustrated attacker - hitting him in the eye from three meters away.

The Death Eater went down, making about six of eighteen to twenty that he had killed. The others started to panic and apparate away. Harry attacked one last one, crushing his chest with a high kick. Looking around he found no one left alive to fight.

He hunted around the ground and picked up his wand near where he had been _Crucioed_. He went over to Cedric's body, and laid him out straight on his back. He closed Cedric's eyes with a shudder and folded his hands across his chest. He saw the trophy a little ways away, and levitated it over to Cedric, lowering it carefully to his chest.

Once it touched him, the trophy and body disappeared. Harry mentally kicked himself for not guessing that it would be a two way portkey.

He shrugged, and started walking. He knew, intellectually, that what he had done was impossible. He also knew that it should effect him. But for the life of him, he didn't feel _anything_.

- - -

June 24, 1994, 21:45 GMT (12:45 WDT)  
Hogwarts, Scotland

"Killed by the killing curse. This is dark magic," Alastor Moody growled, examining Cedric's body.

"Where's Harry Potter?" Minister of Magic, Fudge wanted to know.

The former auror replied, "My guess, he's dead. Whoever set this up sent one of the bodies back as a message."

Headmaster Dumbledore, who was also scanning the "message" raised an eyebrow. "The portkey was set for one round trip; it is done, and the magic will not take anyone where it took the two champions.

"Alastor, can you check Cedric's body to make sure there isn't a real message? Be quick, his parents are coming."

As the Defense professor bent over, Dumbledore hit him with a red curse from his wand. The one legged man fell over.

"Dumbledore!" Fudge yelled, "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"The portkey is of no use as a portkey, but the magical signature of the person who enchanted it was still on it. That signature matches Moody's. Severus! Severus!"

Snape made his way through the growing crowd.

"Severus, go get some Veritaserum. I think Moody has some explaining to do."

"Headmaster, I was summoned about twenty minutes ago. He's back."

"Potter's back?" Fudge asked, excitedly.

"No, Minister," the potions master answered, "the Dark Lord is back."

"NO! He can't be. What are you trying to pull, Dumbledore."

"I am not trying to pull anything, Minister Fudge. The Dark Lord somehow started the process of regaining a body last summer. For some reason, he got Harry Potter into the Triwizard Tournament. Now he has kidnapped him, and at least killed Cedric Diggory. Severus, the Veritaserum, quickly. It may not be too late to save Harry Potter. Cornelius, do something useful and have one of your bodyguard summon Amelia or Rufus, and bring a strike team."

"Here's the Veritaserum, Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked at his potion master with a puzzled expression.

"Do you always carry Veritaserum with you?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

- - -

June 24, 1994, 1:15 PM WDT GMT (22:15 GMT)  
On the road between what will become the Sunnyvale Bay and Los Angeles, California.

"I can feel them, Buffy. All over. Slayers are awakening everywhere!"

"We'll have to find them, Willow."

- - -

June 24, 1994, 23:45 GMT  
Little Hangleton, England

"Macnair, broken left leg, arm, and crushed windpipe," the forensics auror reported to Amelia Bones.

"That's eight. We have nine wands. There were others here, too."

Dumbledore chaffed at not being allowed to search the area. Until the aurors were done, he was just an observer.

"May I see the wands? I can tell you if any of them are Harry's or Voldemort's."

Amelia shrugged. "We already know that neither of those wands are here."

"Wait a minute, Director," the auror with the case of wands interrupted. "Ten wands. We thought these two went together, but they don't."

Nearly every wand was broken. Only two of the corpses had spell residue - they had been hit by the killing curse. It was as if the Death Eaters had suddenly lost their magic and had been beaten to death. It wasn't a very popular theory, but no one had another.

"Tomorrow we'll bring these to Ollivander. If they're his, he'll know who they belong to."

"But what about Harry?"

"He's not here, Albus. There's no trace of him. For all we know, he was consumed in that potion. The cauldron's large enough.

"Anything you want to add about finding Peter Pettigrew's body?"

"Nothing I didn't tell Cornelius last year."

"You knew that Pettigrew was alive a year ago?"

"And that Sirius Black was probably not the Potter's secret keeper, Pettigrew was. I informed Cornelius of my suspicions."

"And what did he do about your suspicions?"

"Alas, Ameila, he seemed to ignore them."

"And you didn't feel the need to tell anyone else? Like in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"If the Minister won't listen, what chance did I have of getting help from any other part of the government."

"I'd say I'm disappointed that you didn't trust me to conduct an impartial investigation, Dumbledore, but I don't believe that. I think that for some reason you didn't want Sirius Black exonerated. Well, now there's going to be an impartial investigation that will include your role in this."

"I will say I'm disappointed that you don't trust me to work for the greater good, Amelia."

"Sorry, Albus, I have no idea what this "greater good" is. All I know is the Law."

- - -

June 25, 1994, 4:02 GMT  
London, England

The truck pulled up to the Police Station. The driver, seeing that his passenger was still asleep, left the truck and entered the building.

"May I help you?" the constable on duty asked.

"I hope so. A few hours ago, I picked up a kid walking along the road outside of Sandbach; pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Says he's left his boarding school and is going home to Surrey. Couldn't get much out of him, he was pretty tired, it being the middle of the night and all. Says there was some sort of tournament at the school and one of the contestants ended up dead, and he almost did. Was real insistent that I not contact the police. Kept saying there was nothing you could do, beggin' yer pardon."

"Did you get any names? The kid? The school? The one who died?"

"He's Harry Evans. The school is one I've never heard of, called Warthogs or something, but maybe that's just the kids' nickname for it. The other contestant was Cedric, he didn't give a last name. Oh, yes, said he was fourteen, though he looked younger, and shouldn't have been in the contest because he was too young. Not much, I'll admit, but he fell asleep fairly quickly. It was after midnight when I picked him, you know. Oh, yeah, he was very polite, too."

"That's unusual. Well, let's go get the tyke in and see if we can't contact his parents."

When they reached the truck the boy wasn't there.

- - - - - - - -

**Author Note**: And that's as much as I have. I do hope to return to this some day, having Buffy and the Scoobies fighting Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix. And a Harry and Dawn romance; and maybe have Willow and Xander get together like Willow used to dream of in the first season of the TV show :-)

Meanwhile, I have an original (non-fan fiction) story in a real, published book:Horror, Humor, and Heroes Volume 2: New Faces of Fantasy Edited by Jim Bernheimer, and filled with stories by some excellent HP fan-fiction authors. Check it out, you won't be disappointed.  



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